


Totally Random, but I Love You

by Mishafer



Series: Saturating the Reibert tag with Actual Reibert Fics [12]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - 2000s, Bert loves Amy Lee but he loves Reiner more, Emo Bertolt, Falling In Love, First Kiss, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 19:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15847890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishafer/pseuds/Mishafer
Summary: Bertholdt goes emo, and Reiner is captivated by his new look and demeanor. But it's when Bertholdt performs My Immortal for him that he truly knows he's in love.





	Totally Random, but I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this silly thing totally on a whim one while thinking of emo!Bert headcanons and feeling nostalgic.

Bertholdt had undergone a transformation. Reiner never thought him one to be swept up by a trend, but he too had fallen into the emo subculture that claimed a quarter of their high school. His music taste evolved into punk, alternative rock, and especially a symphonic rock group called Evanescence. He wrote poetry riddled with angst. He styled his bangs to the side, donned thick black eyeliner, and wore tight skinny jeans.

The change in appearance made Reiner’s gaze linger. Nearly running out of time their last biology test because of how beautifully his red eyeshadow contrasted against his olive skin and green eyes. Reiner told himself he stared because it was an interesting look. He still didn’t see the appeal of the subculture, but Bertholdt’s new fashion was just plain interesting. Nevermind he never gawked at Eren, both Galliard brothers, and Pieck who had adopted a similar look, Nevermind he never felt a flutter in his chest when they read aloud their dark poetry...

But reality punched him in the gut the evening Bertholdt asked him to photograph him outside their school bus stop. The weather was chilly, the sky overcast, and orange leaves dusted the sidewalk. Perfect for a photoshoot for Bertholdt’s MySpace. Bertholdt’s face grew long, hand resting on the side of the bus stop wall. Peering at the sky above. A perch on the empty bench, long legs jutting upwards as he sat with hands folded. Those legs of his were so long. So very long. And his tight pants hugged his lean calves so well little was left to the imagination.

Looking back at the photos on his computer that night, it was undeniable: Bertholdt was hot. No, not in the way a friend would say ‘oh, yeah that looks hot!’ The kind of hot that made him want slip his hands beneath his black band tee. The kind of hot that had him longing to lock their lips together. Grind their bodies together and drink up the little whines that pooled in his throat.

That kind of hot.

Reiner sat back in his computer chair. Okay. So what did this mean? He already knew he was gay, so that was a non-issue. But for his best friend? That hadn’t been the plan. No way! It had to just be a crush. Had to be. People always spoke of teenagers’ hormones working at light speed. That was it. It would go away.

But it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Bertholdt started inviting Reiner to his black-clad room to share his favorite songs. Speaking of them as if each was about him, which Reiner thought odd. He knew Bertholdt’s life story and it did not resemble ‘Welcome to the Black Parade.’ Reiner still failed to understand the phenomenon. Seeing nothing appealing in wallowing in dark emotions. But Bertholdt was passionate about the music and Reiner would stand by anything he loved.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Bertholdt asked, lolling his head against the side of his bed as ‘My Immortal’ by Evanescence played through his boombox.

Reiner watched his bittersweet smile. “Breathtaking.”

“I’m thinking of learning it on piano. And since dad’s a voice instructor, he can coach me.”

He nudged him with his elbow. “Go for it. You’ll be great.”

He pursed his lips. “I hope so.”

Reiner became his biggest fan. Coming over after school to watch him practice on his father’s piano. Copious amounts of pizza and Diet Dr. Pepper (Bertholdt’s favorite drink) as fuel. Bertholdt’s long fingers danced over the keys. Rich chords filling the room as his face eased into some kind of trance. Reiner was mesmerized by his fluidity, focus, and grace. The time flew by each night. Reiner’s gut plummeting when the grandfather clock upstairs struck nine.

However, Bertholdt had been too shy to practice singing in front of him. Electing to be coached by his father before he sang for anyone else. Reiner waited patiently, but was eager to hear the voice he knew would leave him weak in the knees.

At last, the day came. Bertholdt messaged him on AIM:

 **xXChild_of_the_DevilXx:**   _I’m ready to sing it for you! I’m nervous though_

 **Reiner_Rhino_Taco:**   _don’t be! you’ll be awesome. can’t wait to hear it!_

 **xXChild_of_the_DevilXx:**   _Thanks Reiner. rawr_

Reiner knew that didn’t mean ‘I love you’ in a literal sense. But he cherished every ‘rawr’ he received. It was the only way he could say ‘I love you’ back.

 **Reiner_Rhino_Taco:**   _rawr xD_

But his glee waned when Bertholdt sent a picture of his muse, Amy Lee.

 **xXChild_of_the_DevilXx:**   _This new photoshoot is amaaaaazing :-D_

Reiner shifted in his seat and crossed his arms. The inky-haired beauty staring back at him with piercing blue eyes. Bertholdt had a celebrity crush like everyone did. Reiner  _knew_  that. Yet his jealously refuted reason.

But like any good friend—and he gritted his teeth at having to be just a ‘good friend’—he replied back with encouragement.

 **Reiner_Rhino_Taco:**   _just wait til she hears your singing her song. instant marriage proposal_

Bertholdt responded with a blushing emoticon. So cute. That had Reiner smiling again.

The next night, Bertholdt invited Reiner over to hear him perform. Reiner lived in walking distance, a spring in his step as he bounded to his friend’s house. Bertholdt ushered him inside looking especially gorgeous. A sharp jet black line around his eyes, a red band shirt, and Reiner’s oh-so-loved skinny jeans. Plus a new (fake) lip ring on the left of his lower lip that Reiner imagined cool against his own mouth.

The lights were dimmed and Bertholdt took a long sip of water. Reiner sat hands folded on the loveseat to his side. Bertholdt cleared his throat and hands of ebony-painted nails found the keys. Familiar deep notes floated through the room. Reiner almost flinched when Bertholdt’s voice began. ‘I’m so tired of being here,’ he sang. Throaty, but as elegant and smooth as an angel. The words leaving his lips like a knife through warm butter. Reiner already loved it more than the original.

His gripped the edge of his seat and leaned forward. As if being two inches closer would help him better soak up the melody.

‘And you still have... all of me.’

 _Yes, please have all of me_ , he thought desperately, not even bothering to be embarrassed.

Once at the bridge, Reiner finally knew why they called it ‘falling’ in love. He thought he had been in love with him before, but this was something else. His heart pounded and breath hitched like he was about to faint.

Bertholdt’s eyes were half-shut as he finished the the song. The last note faded into silence.

Bertholdt looked over with a sheepishly raised brow. “So?”

Reiner blinked, then stood. Feet forcing him forward. Bertholdt managed a, “Reiner?” before he cupped his neck and brought their mouths together. The lip ring cool against his skin just as he imagined. Bertholdt went stiff for a moment, then sagged and kissed back. Holding Reiner’s upper arms as if to keep himself for falling.

They kissed tenderly but urgently. Reiner drinking up the almost inaudible whine from his friend’s throat. Only when the grandfather clock from upstairs struck half an hour did he stop. The clip-on lip ring only slightly askew despite their passion.

Reiner’s hands slid from Bertholdt’s flushed neck. “I... I just had to do that.”

He gave a semblance of a nod. “Oh.”

He moved back. “I’m sorry if I—”

“You really liked it that much?”

Reiner slumped. “Yes. God,  _yes_ , you idiot.”

His face brightened. “I didn’t think you would. Not that much. I mean, I wished you would, but...”

“You wished I would?”

“Of course. You’re the only one other than my dad I’m not too scared to sing in front of. There’s a reason for that.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What about  _her_?”

“Who?”

“Your girlfriend, Amy.”

“She’s not my—” He giggled, actually  _giggled_. “Are you jealous of Amy Lee?”

He waved him off, cheeks reddening. “No, I'm just kidding...”

Bertholdt stood and took his fingertips. “I like blondes better.”

***

Eight years and two college degrees later, Reiner and Bertholdt combed through their new home. An old two-story Victorian with some of the previous owner’s furniture left behind. Reiner had spent a month convincing him buying a fixer-upper would be cheaper in the long run. And as Bertholdt inspected the antiques—a hobby of his—it was clear he was fully convinced.

“Hey,” Bertholdt called from across the dining room, hand resting on a grand piano. “You think I can still play it?”

Reiner rubbed his beard. He was due for a shave. “Play what?”

He sat at the piano. “My Immortal.”

Reiner raised his brows. “Oh, please try. You know how much I adored emo you.” He sat at a nearby dining chair. “Want me to grab a sharpie for maximum effect?”

“Ha.” Bertholdt tested the keys until he found the rhythm.

The memory from that night came roaring back. The terrifying and wonderful moment he realized he was in love with Bertholdt Hoover.

Bertholdt missed a few and notes and keys through the song, but Reiner couldn’t care less. A smile plastered on his face as the six-five home owner, husband, and biolog graduate lapsed back into the faux angst of an emo teenager.

When Bertholdt finished, he placed a hand on his chest. “I feel blackness returning to my soul.”

Reiner moved to his side. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna go all gaga over Amy Lee again.”

“Nah. I still like blondes better.” 


End file.
